Prepare for the worst. To be sure.
In the chilly dusk of a recent Saturday, nine people crawled through the California hills. Their faces were painted in shades of green, yellow, brown and black to blend in with their surroundings. As they walked through the brush up the hill, they tried to be quiet, as if they didn't want to attract the attention of an invisible enemy. They were aware of every breath, every dry leaf crunching under their feet, every broken twig.
These people were not soldiers. They were just citizens – biotech workers, a masseuse, an entrepreneur – who had decided to spend a weekend preparing for a war, a collapse of society or some other disaster.
A booming voice broke the silence: “Camo! Five four three two one!”
The person who gave the order was Jessie Krebs, a wilderness expert who has trained hundreds of U.S. Air Force officers on how to stay alive behind enemy lines through an intensive course called Survival, Evasion, Resistance and Escape, or SERE.
“Remember,” Ms. Krebs, 51, exclaimed. “Your mission is to hide from me. You want to put objects between me and you. When you're out in the open, you don't want to look human. You want to avoid enemy detection.”
The nine people — who had each paid about $800 to participate in a weekend-long SERE class devised for civilians by Ms. Krebs and her colleagues at the California Survival School — went into stealth mode. A few ducked behind boulders or trees. Others crouched low to the ground. They changed their bodies into strange shapes.
Outdoor education programs, survival courses and military simulations are in high demand as wars abroad intensify and potential voters in the 2024 presidential election tell pollsters and journalists of their fears of civil war or even World War III.
That fear has led to a number of recent books, including “How Civil Wars Start” by Barbara F. Walter and “The Next Civil War” by Stephen Marche. It also underlies the recent Netflix hit 'Leave the World Behind', starring Julia Roberts, which ends with footage of Manhattan under attack, and 'Civil War', an A24 film due out in April, days after the presidential primaries in Pennsylvania.
The Survival school in California teaches wilderness skills and stealth and evasion techniques to a few thousand people every year. Dan Baird, the school's owner and founder, said the roots of SERE training date back to World War I. The nine who gathered here, about an hour's drive from San Francisco, were experiencing the training for the first time.
They would not be trained in the 'RE' part of SERE – that is, resistance and escape. This would involve exposure to stimulated stressors (mental and physical) that prisoners of war face. Those interested in acquiring these skills can contact the school to request private lessons, according to the website.
Before entering the forest, the group members painted each other's faces to blend in with this particular piece of wilderness. In an oak grove, Sarah Beth Riess, a masseuse from Mendocino County, described her reasons for signing up as Mr. Baird smeared her face with ashy clay.
“People say, why are you taking this survival course?” Ms Riess, 42, said. “And my question to them is: why should not You?”
“The way the world looks today,” she continued, “it just makes sense to me. I am sure it is only a matter of time before conflict awaits us – and not just on the news.”
Nearby, two mild-mannered brothers from Aurora, Illinois, Caleb Berry, 22, and Eli Berry, 21, were shoveling clay from abalone shells. “Humans are the most dangerous creatures on earth,” Eli said. “So it's useful to know how to avoid them if you ever need to.” He added: “The chances of you actually needing these skills are obviously very low, so it's about having a wide range of skills.”
Caleb, who said he was about to join the Marine Corps, felt the same way. “I don't expect anything to happen,” he said, “but if something does happen, it's nice to have the skills.”
Others in the group included a married couple, Tina Flowers, 39, and Parker Flowers, 42, who work in biotechnology in the Bay Area. They said they didn't take the class because they feared a catastrophic event.
“Sometimes we talk about things like that,” Mrs. Flowers said as she painted her husband's face, “but that wasn't the motivation for being here. But you never know, right?”
“When we moved to California from Connecticut, we made a commitment to become more outdoors,” Mr. Flowers said. “The usual thing you do when you move to California.”
The couple said they were also fans of wilderness television shows, which played a role in popularizing survival schools. Ms. Krebs, the instructor, is an alumna of “Alone,” a survival competition series on the History channel.
“I can feel my stealth-and-evade mentality coming on,” Mr. Flowers said, once his face was completely painted.
That evening, in the glow of their red and green headlights, the students gathered in a clearing for dinner. The menu featured that military staple, the Meal, Ready-to-Eat or MRE. It contained chili, beef strips, applesauce, cones and hot chocolate.
Ms. Krebs pointed to the constellation Cassiopeia. A joking conversation between those present turned more serious when it came to the topic of artificial intelligence.
“I have enough technical knowledge to know that AI is scary,” says Lawrence Yu, a 44-year-old tech entrepreneur from Berkeley. “Essentially, we will have something that will be catastrophic for the human race. I estimate the chance at 50 percent in the next ten years.”
When asked if the rise of AI was a reason he signed up for the SERE course, he quickly responded: “Absolutely zero. You can never escape it, dude. Thermal detection, night vision. If something like this gets out of hand, I don't want to be here.”
“I'm concerned about urban issues in America,” he continued. “There is already a battle around ideologies, call it 'woke' and conservative. I'm bracing myself for more fires around it. These are interesting times, both here and abroad. These are rocky roads.”
Mr. Yu said his interest in survivalism came after reading “Emergency,” a 2009 book by Neil Strauss about his transformation from “helpless city dweller” to independent survivalist. “The coolest thing you can do is develop skills like James Bond,” Mr Yu said. He said he had been taking flying lessons lately, despite a fear of heights; learned to pick locks; and fired guns. Would he take more courses after this? “Yes, absolutely,” he said.
Night fell. Ms. Krebs told the crew to set up the bunks as inconspicuously as possible. They secured a camouflaged tarp in near silence. For some, sleep came easily. Others struggled. Curious horses entered the encampment, amusing some students and frightening others (including this reporter).
At dawn, the participants cleared the undergrowth to remove all traces of their presence. Olivia Garrido, 29, tended her spot between two fallen branches. She is a self-employed restaurant equipment repair and liquidation worker living in Utah. She said she saw the value of the SERE course.
“The avoidance thing is interesting to me,” she said. “It's a sad reality, but as a woman I'm happy to learn it because I do a lot of solo walks. On those paths it is good to be able to avoid and avoid certain people.”
Ms Garrido added that she was looking forward to using her new skills on trips to national parks, especially to witness nature undisturbed: “I love the desert and I would like to take some of these classes so that I, when I go there, I can mute my presence and experience wildlife up close.”
In the morning light the group descended to the base camp. Jorge Merlos, a 30-year-old zookeeper at a wolf sanctuary, used point-to-point compass navigation as he maneuvered through the wilderness and communicated with his course partner, Ms. Garrido, with hand and eye gestures.
“If I have a family,” Mr. Merlos said, “I want them to trust me as a source of knowledge and protection, especially when we are in the wilderness.” When asked if his interest in SERE had anything to do with the tense national mood, he said: “There is a saying: 'It is better to be a warrior in a garden than a gardener in a war.'”
Towards the end of the day, the group discussed general survival skills: how to stay alive and mentally healthy while alone in the wilderness. Then the rain fell and the hill country became a swampy mess.
“Rain,” Mrs. Krebs said. “It's actually quite good for dodging.”
Huddled under a tarp, she taught her last class, on strategies for surviving nuclear and biological attacks. Later, she explained a bit about her worldview and thoughts about teaching SERE.
“There are a lot of legitimate reasons why you might want to look for this kind of thing,” she said. “There are tactical, scary reasons, but there are many more, and sometimes it's just fun. The most important question I ask people who come here is: Do you think the world is kind? If you answer yes, then I want to teach you. If it is no, I am not that interested, because that is operating from paranoia and fear.”
“We see quite a bit of this thinking in SERE courses,” she continued. “Personally, I believe in a friendly universe, and I hope that comes across when I teach.”
At the end of the course, the nine students posed for group photos, shook hands and hugged each other. As the rain continued, they piled into their cars – sedans, SUVs, pickup trucks – and drove past a field of oats, back to their daily lives.